


Knowing How to Get By

by citizenjess (givehimonemore)



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Community: alphabetasoup, Gen, Stealing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-05 23:39:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givehimonemore/pseuds/citizenjess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Anakin has to follow his own code.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knowing How to Get By

**Author's Note:**

> Written circa-2006 for alphabetasoup's T-is-for-thief challenge. This entire thing gave me images of Anakin as Aladdin in fact, I now have bits of the soundtrack from the Disney movie running through my head.

1.

He steals things sometimes on Tatooine a piece of fruit that nobody will miss, a trinket when he's pretty sure nobody's watching; spare parts where he can find them to build droids and pod-racers. It's a repugnant thing to do, but he's a slave, and there's a different code of honor at work for them for people like him. You don't steal from another slave if you can help it, for one thing. Also, you don't rat each other out.

Anakin knows his mother disapproves; he never does it when he knows she's nearby, foremost because he doesn't want her to be in trouble if he should get caught, but also because he can't bear the look in her eyes: fear, sadness. Mostly, shame that she can't provide everything he could possibly need, let alone want. Anakin never blames Shmi; he knows that slave owners are apathetic at best and neglectful, even abusive at worst, and that even if Watto isn't the worst by far, he rarely makes sure that they have everything they need.

Anakin dreams of freeing all the slaves on Tatooine and eventually in the Outer Rim on planets where such a system still exists long after he leaves for the Jedi Temple. He pictures himself charging in heroically, slicing the heads off of Hutts and an occasional smarmy Toydarian owner or two, his lightsaber a bright, blue blur. He dreams of his mother's face, kind and compassionate, possibly older but eternally graceful, and the faces of his fellow slaves, most of whom he recognizes.

His own face is chiseled, determined, and he walks over to the large fruit stand that he used to plunder from and knocks it over with a single wave of his hand - a symbol of the planet's newfound freedom.

2.

The first time his Master catches him stealing, Anakin doesn't know when he'll hear the end of it. It's not the first time he's stolen something since leaving Tatooine, obviously, and not even the first time in Obi-Wan's presence.

His Master leads him back to their ship they're on a diplomatic mission in the Mid-Rim, on a planet with a decidedly large gap between its rich and poor inhabitants, so thievery isn't exactly unheard of around here. Somehow, though, he doesn't think the "everybody else is doing it" excuse is going to fly with Obi-Wan.

It doesn't. "You are a Jedi, Anakin," his Master says, and then pauses. It's difficult to notice, but Anakin has become an expert at reading the nuances of Obi-Wan's facial expressions; something important has just occurred to his Master. "I realize that you are accustomed to finding what you and your mother need by less than legal means," he chides gently. "But you no longer need to do that nor will you." He hands his Padawan a few credits and studies his downward gaze until Anakin swallows and nods guiltily. Then Obi-Wan pats him on the shoulder, as if to say, I understand. But even so, Anakin can't make himself believe he won't do it anymore.

3.

Darth Vader has his own code to live by. It has nothing to do with benefiting his fellow creatures, and everything to do with his own whims and desires. He has few needs anymore, only wants, and he wants often and plenty.

Sometimes, he thinks about his mother; her face is a very distant memory now, but if he really concentrates, he can make out the soft pinkness of her lips, her naturally rouged cheeks, her kind, loving eyes. He thinks of Padme less distantly, on the last day he saw her alive, her belly swollen with his child. He wonders sometimes if he could have ever made her understand; if as a young, former Queen of Naboo and Senator who always lived in the lap of luxury, she could ever have possibly realized the depths of his own dysfunctional relationship with wealth and power.

He decides eventually that she probably never could, and pushes remnants of a life long since lost aside, knowing such memories are less than economical.


End file.
